Iris squeezed her eyes shut suddenly as her sweat poured into them and stung. It was the wrong moment to shut her eyes.
Miguel took advantage of her sudden blindness and knocked her sword from her hands, sending it and her clattering to the floor. Iris held her stinging hand to her chest and hissed in pain. She looked down at the long cut across the top of her hand. She narrowed her eyes at Miguel.
He grinned at her. "Oops."
"You did that on purpose!" Iris accused, standing to retrieve her sword.
Miguel shrugged, the grin dropping off of his face. "You did it to yourself. Shutting your eyes during a sword fight is not the smartest move I've ever seen. Although it isn't the dumbest thing you've done. Not today anyway," The sardonic grin twisted his mouth again.
"Well excuse me for not being perfect. This is only the fourth time in my life I've handled a sword. Yesterday being my second and third, I don't think I'm doing too bad." Iris stuck out her chin and raised her eyebrow at Miguel.
"Yeah, well I don't appreciate you making stupid mistakes like that when I've spent two whole days with you in this training room. When I give up my time, I expect to get something good in return. So stop screwing up and get these drills right!" Miguel shouted, obviously frustrated. He took a deep breath and got into the ready position, crooking his finger at Iris. "C'mon, let's go again."
Iris took a deep breath and raised her sword, her arms screaming at her to let them rest, her entire body begging for mercy. Iris refused to stop until she had learned the drills and had them down to perfection. Her intention was not to please Dilandau; no far from it.
She wanted to beat him.
She knew she had a long way to go, but she still had four more days to train, and she was a fast learner.
"Good," Miguel encouraged when she blocked his well-aimed thrust at her mid-section. "Now counter, harder! That's it, keep it coming. Don't just hack at me, aim for something. Whoa!" Miguel ducked when he had blocked her thrust at his head and her blade had stopped inches from his left eye. He grinned and shoved her back. "That's more like it."
The drills continued like this as Dilandau watched from an observation deck just above the fight. Iris improved almost every minute. He could see her thinking; he could see that she had already developed a certain style all her own.
She was good at this dance.
Dilandau smiled. The game just kept getting more and more interesting.
*****
Eric shivered in his cell and tried to get comfortable on the small pile of straw that had been laid out on the cold floor. He closed his eyes and literally prayed for sleep to come to him.
No such luck.
He had no idea how long he'd been in the cell. All he knew was that he'd eaten three times, had been ravenous at all three meals, and he had not slept one bit. His stomach felt a bit queasy and his head would not stop pounding.
Eric groaned and rolled over. He truly did not feel well at all. The lack of sleep was making him nauseous.
Suddenly, he heard his cell door swing open. He rolled his head to the side to see who it was.
"Viole!" Eric's eyes lit up and he scrambled into an upright position.
"Hey kid." Viole said, and set another plate of food down in front of Eric. Eric looked at the food, and grabbed his stomach. "How are ya-" Viole started, then backed up quickly as Eric vomited on the cell floor. "Doing?" he finished, wincing at the mess.
Eric wiped his mouth. "I'm sorry, Viole. I just don't feel really good." Tears came to Eric's eyes, hot tears of embarrassment at what he had just done.
Viole knelt down to Eric's level and patted his shoulder uncertainly. "Hey kid, don't cry. It's all right, really. We'll get this cleaned up right away. Are you hungry at all?"
Eric shook his head weakly.
"All right, then I'll take this food back and uh," Viole had felt Eric's shivers when he had put his hand on his shoulder. "I'll, uh, I'll get you a blanket."
"Thank you," Eric murmured, and crawled into the opposite corner, away form his mess.
Viole winced again as that feeling came into this stomach.
What is that? He asked himself. Guilt?
He shook it off, however, and threw Eric's unwanted food to the guard dogs outside of the dungeon.
Her time was up.
Iris sat at the long table with all of the dragonslayers on the morning of her challenge. She tried to gulp down the porridge and fruit in front of her, but knew that her nervous stomach would send the food she forced down right back up again.
"You'd better eat," Miguel nudged Iris's elbow with his own as he chewed an apple slice. "You'll need plenty of energy today. You're in for the long haul." Miguel winked at her and ate another apple slice.
"How many slayers do you think I can beat? Be honest, Miguel," Iris pleaded quietly.
Miguel placed a hand to the back of his neck and considered, looking up and down the long table. "I'd say you've got four good fights today. You'll take Refina down because you've got size on her, you should be able to get Chesta but you'll have to be quick, he's a fast little bugger. Dalet will be a definite challenge, but I taught you the move that I always take him out with, use it and you should be fine. Viole is the one you'll have to look out for. He's quick, he's strong, and he's smart. He'll wait you out because he knows you'll be tired. He'll wait 'til you make a mistake, and then he'll take you out."
Iris took a deep breath and looked at Miguel. "Four slayers? That's all the credit you'll give me?"
Miguel raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, four ain't too shabby. These guys, and girls," He grinned a bit. "Have been in sword combat most of their lives. A lot longer than you have at any rate. I'm being honest, like you asked me to be."
"Thanks for that," Iris whispered, her eyes downcast and sad. She pushed away from the table and stood. "May I be excused, Dilandau-sama?" she asked, automatically.
"What for?" He questioned, without looking up from his bowl of porridge.
"So that I may prepare for today's exercises," she answered, looking straight ahead.
Dilandau grinned. "Take all the time you need," he said, waving her off. "It won't make a difference." Dilandau grinned and watched her go. She had shown no reaction to his statement, but he knew he had rattled her.
He gave her about a five minute head start, then got up to leave the mess hall. He called over his shoulder to Gatti. "Gatti, you're in charge until I return. Make sure all this is cleaned up and all slayers are in the training room and prepared in an hour."
"Yes, Dilandau-sama." Gatti stood and cleared off his place at the table as soon as Dilandau and Iris had gone, motioning for the others to do the same. He tossed the wet rag at Chesta, hitting him in the face with it.
"Hey! Gatti! Knock it off!" Chesta yelled, and twisted the wet cloth up, snapping Gatti on his back with it.
The other slayers laughed as Gatti yelped and put Chesta in a headlock. Chesta finally called out uncle and Gatti grinned and messed up his hair.
He gave the wet rag back to Chesta. "Clean the table, twerp." Gatti said, affectionately mussing up Chesta's hair again.
"Yeah, yeah." Chesta griped and began swabbing up the crumbs and spilt food. "One of these days, Gatti, I'm gonna get that second growth spurt and you are gonna be in trouble."
A chorus of 'Ooooo's' went through out the slayers, and Gatti grinned. "I hope so twerp. That way I won't always have to be getting you out from under foot all the time."
"I'll show you underfoot!" Chesta threw down the rag and charged at Gatti, wrapping his arms around Gatti's waist and driving him to the ground. Gatti hit with a thud and laughed. He rolled over and pinned Chesta to the ground. The two wrestled around a bit and the other slayers rolled their eyes and chuckled, used to the everyday banter between the two blonde friends.
Gatti pulled Chesta's arm behind his back. "Say it!" Gatti grinned as Chesta flopped about like a fish out of water trying to get free. "Say it, Chess…"
"No! I won't! You can't-" Chesta stopped when a familiar foot came into view. Gatti had already seen and was up and off of Chesta and saluting.
"Sir! I, uh, I apologize for our actions, sir. It was just a joke." Gatti lowered his saluting hand and looked straight forward.
"Do you believe this joking to be an adequate way to spend Zaibach's time, slayer?" Folken asked, never having bothered to learn their names. "Because you have no time, soldier. You know that don't you? Zaibach owns you. Therefore, your time turns into our time and our time is much too precious and numbered to be spent wrestling on the floor of a mess hall. Please spend it more wisely in the future, if it wouldn't be too much trouble gentlemen." Folken left the room with a swish of his cape, and all the slayers were silent.
Gatti helped Chesta up, and the two looked around. Suddenly, Miguel burst out laughing and all the other slayers followed suit.
Miguel walked up to Gatti and put his hand on his shaking shoulder. "Man, that was priceless! 'Zaibach owns you and therefore owns your time'!" Miguel imitated Folken's monotone voice and shook his finger at Chesta. "You should know better, young man."
All the slayers collapsed into laughter again.
Miguel patted Chesta and Gatti on their shoulders before strolling out of the mess hall, still chuckling. "You two," he turned, wagging his finger at them and grinning. "You two are always good for a laugh, if nothing else." He skirted the wash rag that was thrown at him and jogged down the hall, still laughing.
Iris swung her sword over her head and gave a great cry out loud as she be-headed the practice dummy in front of her. She stabbed her sword into the ground and sank to her knees, exhausted. She held onto the hilt of the sword with both hands and leaned her forehead against the cool metal as she tried to get her breathing under control.
Gods of Gaea, she prayed silently. If you're there and can hear me, I need some help. A lot of it. Please, I beg of you, give me the strength that I need today and I will never ask anything more from you.
"Never," she whispered as she moved to stand again. She wobbled a bit, her knees not quite supporting her as they should. A gloved hand grabbed her elbow and steadied her. Iris jumped at the contact, but turned to thank her rescuer, thinking it to be a fellow dragonslayer.
Before she could, a deep, smooth voice spoke into her ear and sent ghostly lizards crawling up and down her spine. "Careful, princess. We can't have you feeling too weak to participate in your test today, now can we?" Dilandau's mouth was extremely close to her own when she whipped her head around in surprise.
Her breath left her as she realized this in a quick gasp, and she yanked her eyes off of his lips and up to his red eyes.
They were laughing at her, those eyes. She felt he could see inside of her mind as easily as if her own eyes were made of clear glass.
Flushed, Iris used her free arm and hand to wipe the hair from her eyes. "D-Dilandau-sama. Thank you, I nearly fell."
"So I saw," Dilandau said, and released her. He yanked her sword from where it was plunged into the ground and held it up, examining the scars and grooves in the blade. "You should take better care of your equipment, Iris. This will not cut through flesh cleanly at all. It will tear it, very messy and unpleasant." He turned and smiled at her, his eyes glittering with something that produced an excess of butterflies in her stomach. "Unless you like that sort of thing." He said quietly.
Iris blinked and swallowed hard.
Dilandau licked his lips and handed her the sword, hilt first. She reached out her hand to grab it, but instead, he grabbed her hand. He turned it palm down, and frowned as he examined the long cut on the back of her hand. His eyes flickered to meet hers. He gestured to her hand.
"Sparring accident, sir." She explained quietly, not meeting his eyes. She had learned not to do so unless she wanted ice water down her back.
"I see. Just a scratch from Miguel, my best swordsman? You're a lucky little princess." He dropped her hand and stepped back. "Perhaps today, with me watching, he will not go so easy on you."
Iris looked up at that. "You believe I will make it to spar with Miguel?" She asked, confused.
"What do you mean?" Dilandau narrowed his eyes at her, also confused.
"Well, I assumed, sir, that I would be fighting the slayers in order of their abilities. And since Miguel is one of the best, I wasn't sure I would make it to spar with him before I was eliminated from the competition." Iris explained.
"I said you would battle all my slayers and finally me, did I not?" Dilandau turned his back towards her and held the sword his hands, weighing it, playing with the weapon.
"Well, yes sir, and I thought that to be like a ladder of some sort. A tournament type of situa-"
"That's the problem with you women," Dilandau interrupted, grinning as he turned around and slammed the sword into the ground right in front of where Iris was still kneeling. He leaned his face close to hers, the smile still twisting his lips. "Always thinking." He whispered and leaned forward.
It was a fast kiss. Fast and hard. Iris hardly had time to react. She was still reeling from the fact that the sword had almost punctured her foot when Dilandau's hand came to the back of her neck and pushed her lips onto his own.
Iris's mind spun back to the first time she had felt his lips on hers. The cold hard contact of them, their purpose to muffle her cries of pain. This one was different. It was still hard, but some of the coldness had gone out of it, and this one was defiantly not to silence anything, except perhaps the hunger Dilandau felt deep in his gut for the touch of this woman.
He pulled away quickly as he had pulled her towards him, and stood. "Be ready in thirty minutes, princess," He called over his shoulder as he walked out of the training room. "We'll all meet back here then, and decide the fate of your future." Dilandau disappeared out of the door, and left Iris alone with her spinning mind.
Just what was he trying to do to her?
"Drive me insane," Iris told herself. "He's just trying to distract me, to pull me off focus so that I will embarrass myself at the test." Iris stood and yanked her sword from the ground.
"It won't work." She stated simply. "I won't let it."
Iris grabbed a sanding block and began to sharpen her sword and smooth out the scars and knicks.
*****
Eric opened his eyes and sighed. Now that Viole had brought him a pillow and a blanket, he could sleep better on the pile of hay in the corner. The sun shined into the cell now because they had removed the plank of wood over the barred window. Eric yawned and sat up when he heard footsteps approaching his cell.
"Hey, kid. How're you feeling today?" Viole asked, opening the cell door and squatting down next to Eric.
"Much better now that I slept. How come you didn't bring my breakfast?" Eric noticed the missing tray that Viole usually brought down every morning about this time.
"Because you'll be eating it with me, this morning. Master Dilandau's orders. He says when the rest of the slayers have finished their breakfasts, you can be served yours."
Eric lowered his eyes and played with a piece of straw. "Will he be there?"
"Master Dilandau? No. It will just be you and I." Viole raised his eyebrow when Eric immediately brightened. "Why do you ask?"
"I won't sit at the same table with him." Eric mumbled, his voice suddenly much too sober for a child his age.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't eat in the company of those who destroy my country and kill my mother. Father wouldn't approve, I don't think."
Viole didn't remind him that he himself had been a part of that mission.
"I see. Well I guarantee he will not be there to eat with us. Shall we go?" Viole stood and held out his hand to help Eric up.
Eric grinned. "Yeah cuz I am starving!" Eric grabbed Viole's hand and pulled him along even though he had no idea where he was going. Viole stopped and pulled him in the opposite direction. "No, twerp, this way." Viole chuckled as Eric charged in the direction he was pointed in.
Viole chuckled again when he watched Eric wolf down his porridge and fruit. "A person would think you hadn't eaten in years, kid. Slow down before you gorge yourself sick. I'm not cleaning that up again…"
Eric blushed and began to chew slower. "It's just that this is so good. The food I got before-" he paused to swallow. "Wasn't anywhere near as good as this is!"
After two bowls of porridge and three plates of fruit, Eric was finally satisfied. Viole was carrying the dishes to the kitchen when he heard loud shouting and clapping coming from somewhere in the Vionne.
"What's that?" Eric asked, looking towards the doors.
"I don't know," Viole said setting the dishes down and walking towards the door. "Let's go find out."
He waited for Eric to push his chair in (and chuckled at that as well) then walked down the hall with Eric at his side, following the noise all the way to the training room. The door slid open, and to Viole's surprise, Eric grabbed his hand and held it, using Viole's arm as a vine to swing into the room on. He took a running start and swung in, whooping as he toke Viole with him.
"That's fun!" Eric giggled. "Let's do it again!" Eric continued to swing, and Viole couldn't help but grin at him as he continued his game with Viole's arm. But Viole wasn't giving all his attention to Eric. As Eric continued to swing, Viole listened to the dull roar and discovered where it was coming from.
"The training arena! Shit! It's started already, I'm late!" Eric gasped and covered his mouth as Viole picked him up and tucked him under his arm, running for the arena.
He set Eric down and cautiously pulled open the curtain, looking into the arena. He saw Iris clash swords with Refina and shove the girl dragonslayer to the ground. He raised his eyebrows in surprise at her strength. When Dilandau had told him he was to fight the princess, he had nearly laughed, thinking it to be a joke. Now he was smiling, looking forward to his turn with the fiery royalty.
"This could be fun, you want to stay and watch? I'm sure Dilandau-sama wouldn't mind. He likes to impress violence on young children." Viole grinned, but Eric remained silent. He looked at Viole with his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide. "What's your problem?" Viole asked.
"You said the 'S' word," Eric accused.
Viole rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Do you want to watch or not?"
"Sword fights? You bet I do!" Eric waited patently behind the curtain until Viole got Dilandau's permission.
Iris stood in the center of the training arena and tried to block out all the noise as encouragement and curses were yelled at her from the stands. Her hands worked on the hilt of her sword as sweat worked its way down her back and neck.
She circled Chesta, and his eyes never left her as he moved around her as well. The boy had a small cut on his cheek where he had failed to block on of Iris's advances quickly enough.
Iris in turn had a cut on her neck from a close call from Refina earlier, and a cut on her leg from underestimating Chesta's quickness.
Her chest heaved up and down as she waited for Chesta to attack. He did, and she parried his blow and raised her leg, kneeing him in the stomach. As soon as he bent double, she brought her elbow to his face.
Chesta grunted and fell back as blood spurted from his nose. Iris stood over him and pointed her sword at his neck. "Dead," she proclaimed triumphantly as she smiled down at him.
Iris turned to Dilandau who watched with his hands folded in front of them and his chin resting on them. She waited for his consent. He nodded slightly and the arena exploded in applause and hisses as Iris leaned down to help Chesta up. "Sorry, Chesta," Iris smiled at the boy as he winced and stood with her help. "You left yourself wide open."
"Beginners luck," Chesta grinned and patted Iris's shoulder. "You're good, not great, but good. But not great…"
Iris rolled her eyes and shoved him towards the exit of the arena floor. "Yeah, yeah. Get out of here before I kick your ass again."
Dilandau pondered for a moment then narrowed his eyes at the smile on her face. She was having fun. This was supposed to be a test, not a recreational fun day. He murmured something to Gatti, who nodded and picked up his megaphone. "The next contender will be, Miguel Labariel."
Iris gasped and turned to look up at Dilandau. He grinned and blew a kiss at her. Iris narrowed her eyes at him even as the blush worked its way up her neck.
Miguel jumped himself. Surely he couldn't have heard right…
"Miguel, you're up." Dalet smacked him on the shoulder to bring him out of his trance.
Miguel stood slowly and walked out into the arena towards Iris. She looked at him with confusion and fear in her eyes.
He stealthily shrugged at her as they turned and bowed to Dilandau.
"Begin," Dilandau called. Iris could hear the grin in his voice.
Miguel drew his sword and began circling her.
She did the same. "Miguel, what do I do?" she whispered, clenching her teeth together and trying not to move her lips.
"You're asking your enemy for advice?" Miguel answered, clenching his jaw as well.
"I know that I can't beat you. This isn't fair." Iris stopped and began circling the other way, just so as not to appear suspicious.
"You knew you'd have to fight me eventually. Just do what I taught you, you'll be fine." Miguel lunged at her and Iris barely suppressed a scream as she threw up her sword for the block.
His steel crashed down hard on hers, and forced her to her knees. His sword made a quick arc for her neck. He would stop before it reached her flesh, declare her 'dead', and win.
Fuck that shit.
Iris ducked under his blade and kicked out her leg, tripping Miguel. She scrambled to her feet and aimed her sword at his neck. He blocked it, an incredulous look in his eyes as he shoved her back so that he could stand.
They began to circle each other again. "I thought I told you to do what I taught you to do. I don't know where you learned that move, but it wasn't from me." Miguel grinned and attacked her again, this time swinging his blade for her midsection.
Iris jumped back and spun around, bringing her sword for his shoulder. He blocked it and sent her sword flying. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve you don't know about." She winked at him and did three consecutive backward flips to retrieve her sword.
Miguel raised an eyebrow. "Showoff."
Dilandau watched as they clashed swords again. He didn't know whether to be angry with his best swordsman for taking so long to beat this girl, or to be happy with Miguel's obviously more than adequate training of her. He leaned back in his throne and placed a fist to his mouth.
He watched as Iris flashed a radiant smile at Miguel again, and something clicked inside of him. He barely recognized the emotion, but when it dawned on him, it infuriated him.
Jealousy? He barely knew what that was. He had never had reason to be jealous before. He was the person that everyone else was jealous of.
"Dilandau-sama?"
How dare she smile like that at Miguel? She was not supposed to be enjoying herself. This was a test; this was punishment for what she had done.
"Dilandau-sama?"
Dilandau's knuckles were white as he grabbed the arm of the chair in anger. He would show her. He would go down there and-
"Dilandau-sama?"
"What?" Dilandau roared, breaking the armrest off of his chair.
"Um, sir, I was just wondering if it was ok to let the kid watch the tournament, sir. He's waiting outside and…" Viole winced and trailed off when Dilandau turned and gave him a very strange look.
"The prince?" Dilandau asked quietly, not really speaking to anyone.
"Yes, sir."
Dilandau suddenly began to smile. His eyes narrowed and his hand went to the scar on his face. "Perfect," he purred as he ran his finger down the length of his scarred cheek.
"Sir?" Viole asked quietly.
"By all means, Viole," Dilandau stood and walked past him, still wearing the maniacal and very disturbing smile. "By all means, let the boy watch." Dilandau chuckled and made his way down to the arena floor.
